


Christmas Truce

by twobirdsonesong



Category: Glee RPF
Genre: Christmas, Complicated Relationships, Drabble, Established Relationship, M/M, Skype, crisscolfer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-24
Updated: 2014-12-24
Packaged: 2018-03-03 07:19:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,190
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2842757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twobirdsonesong/pseuds/twobirdsonesong
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chris and Darren take a private moment to celebrate their own Christmas tradition.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Christmas Truce

He doesn’t mean for it to become something like a Christmas tradition and he thinks it started somewhere in the middle of it all, when scheduling and ego and image and all those myriad things that pull at their lives started to tip the scales.

  
There were days, Darren remembers, weeks when they didn’t talk outside of filming.  For stupid reasons and serious ones too and sometimes the difference between the two was indecipherable.  But Christmas. Christmas is different.

 

Whether they’re fighting or fucking or something in between, somehow Christmas has become a day when it doesn’t matter, when nothing else matters but the two of them and what has and hasn’t been for them throughout the year.  Christmas is a day when somehow they’ve decided that _they_ are more important than anything else, no matter what they are to each other at that moment in time. No matter what anyone else is either.

 

Sometimes they manage to meet for a few moments, or maybe even a quick day, flight paths crossing ungainly across the country. Gifts aren’t needed but exchanged, ridiculous little mementoes full of thought and not expense, because often all they have for each other are memories.  Sometimes all they can manage is a crackling phone call in the back seat of a car on the way to some bullshit event or locked away in the bathroom of a party where a door is enough to keep the world out.  Darren worries that someone will hear something they shouldn’t, that he’ll say something he shouldn’t too loud, but Christmas comes but once a year and of all the things he lets get taken from them, he refuses to hand this day over too.

 

He has to settle for Skype this year, tucked away in the baby’s room of his brother’s apartment because it’s the only place not filled with prying family. He sits on the floor because the only adult-sized furniture in the room is a complicated looking rocking chair for his sister-in-law and he’s not going to fuck with it.

 

It always takes Skype a while to load up and Darren’s taps his fingers restlessly on his thighs until it comes up.  Chris is already logged in and Darren wastes no extra time calling him, anxious for his voice and his eyes even though they saw each other in the flesh just a few days before.

 

This is different.  This is Christmas.

 

Darren sighs happily, mouth twitching into a lopsided grin when Chris’ face pops into view. “Hey,” Darren says, watching as Chris frowns adorably at the screen and presses a few buttons on his laptop.

 

“Hey there you are,” he says finally, eyes lifting to the screen.

 

“Merry Christmas.”

 

Chris smiles, pushing his fingers through his hair before resting his chin on his hand. “Merry Christmas.”

 

Chris is at his parents’ house, Darren can tell by the room he’s in.  Darren has seen those walls in the background of Skype calls enough to know with certainty and he’s not ashamed to say he knows that bedspread too.  He doesn’t think about who else is or isn’t in the house.

 

“How was the flight?” Chris asks.  He looks tired around his eyes and his clothing is wrinkled.

 

“Good, boring.  Long.” Darren couldn’t sleep this time and ended up playing Free Cell on his phone for two hours before half-watching a movie.  “How was the drive?”  


Chris smirks a little. “Good.  Boring. Long.”

 

It’s weirdly traditional Darren thinks, sitting there on the floor hiding his heart from his family while making time each and every year for another person. Setting aside the grievances that build over the months and across their lives for one day to pretend like the world is fair and just and right.  To let the person he loves, despite and because of all things, know it.

 

“Where are you?” Chris asks.

 

“Oh, the nursery.” Darren glances around at the crib and the toys and the blankets.

 

And odd expression is just leaving Chris’ face when Darren looks back at the screen and he doesn’t ask about it.  They’re still each allowed their small secrets.

 

“How’s the niece?”

 

“She’s good,” Darren nods.  “She’s really good. Fucking adorable but of course she is.”

 

Chris’ smile is soft.  “I uh, I sent a couple of packages, for Christmas, for her, I hope they get there.”

 

Darren brightens, remembering the boxes that were piled in the living room. “They did! They did. I was going to say thanks but you beat me to it.”

 

Chris shrugs in a lame excuse for nonchalance.  “It’s nothing.  I just, I wanted--”

 

“Shut up. It’s awesome and she’s going to love them.”  His niece is a baby and doesn’t know right from left but that isn’t the point when it comes to presents.

 

“She doesn’t even know me,” Chris whispers, like it hurts something deep inside of him, and Darren’s heart hurts too.

 

“She will,” Darren says with conviction.  He’ll be sure of it.  “You’re uncle Chris.”

 

Chris rolls his eyes and Darren wants to reach through the screen and across the country for him. “The family doing well?”

 

“Oh yeah. You know my parents. Over the moon for a grandkid, like Chuck and I are ancient or something.  Pretty sure I’m going to have to elbow mom out of the way to get my turn.”

  
That makes Chris laugh.  “Well, I demand a few hours with her the next time I’m over there.”

 

Darren sobers.  “Of course, man. You know that…you know you’re always--”

 

Chris nods and there’s a smile on his lips that finally reaches his eyes. “I know.  I know.”

 

Darren doesn’t know where to go from there and ends up staring unblinking into Chris’ face through the camera and across the country.  They don’t always have the right things to say to each other, or anything to say at all.  But sometimes the best words between them are the silent ones, the known but unspoken ones.

 

“I got you a little something,” Darren says finally.  “For Christmas.”

 

“Oh yeah?” Chris brightens.  
  
“Yup, but you’re going to have to wait until I get back for it.” The little box is wrapped in blue and gold paper and hidden away in his desk drawer, far away from the snooping eyes and hands of the people who frequently roam his house.

 

Chris’ eyes soften. “So it’s an in-person kind of gift.”

 

“It is.” And it’s also an excuse to steal Chris away for a few hours and they both know it.

 

“Then I guess I’ll have to give you your present then too.”

 

Darren grins. “I guess you will.”

 

They don’t have much time to talk, Darren knows.  His family will come looking for him and so will Chris’. His mother will smile knowingly and pat him on the arm and they won’t say again the obvious things. But Darren makes every minute he and Chris do have this rainy Christmas morning count.  Because sometimes this is all he has, it’s all _they_ have, a private conversation hung suspended across the country to see them to the new year.


End file.
